This Is A 'Con Job
by ckret2
Summary: A collection of loosely related postEnergon oneshots and drabbles. Mostly starring Decepticons, as well as a few Minicons, Terrorcons, and disillusioned Autobots.
1. Spare Parts

_One-shots and drabbles, I have discovered, are fun. And thus, _This Is A 'Con Job _will consist of a collection of loosely related one-shots and drabbles. This chapter is the first of them, and was originally a freestanding one-shot called _Spare Parts_. It is now the first in this collection._

_Odds are, no discernible storyline will emerge from these chapters. It's a short story collection, basically._

_Due to (in my opinion) extreme policy against replying to reviews within fics, I cannot. So, if you want any kind of a reply to a review, feel free to leave your email and/or sign in so I can track you down. In fact, leave your email anyway. And if you don't want to, go ahead and review without leaving your email. I like reviews, constructive is even more fun._

_Notes: This fic was originally a drabble that became a one-shot for the Livejournal community 31days. It was for the prompt on Dec 18 2005, "Art is far feebler than Necessity."_

_Disclaimer: Every proper noun in this fic belongs to HasTak except Sleekstrike, who belongs to me. The plot is also mine._

**

Spare Parts

**

"Demolisher!" Snowcat yelled, far more loudly than sensible, waving a package of unrefined, green Energon stars far more wildly than he should have. "Look what I got!"

"Shut up!" Demolisher yelled back at him, then ran over several large pieces of junk to reach Snowcat before anyone else saw what he'd been waving around. "Where'd you get these?" he asked quietly. He pulled Snowcat's arm down, partially to see the stars up close and partially so no one else could. Already, several Transformers were looking up from their various positions among the junk, optics glowing with hunger and envy.

Snowcat noticed the others and declared, "My gun's still functioning!" The envious optics quickly turned back to what they were doing. They wouldn't be able to fight the stars away from someone who still had a gun, and if he dared to bluff then that probably meant he was desperate enough to destroy the stars rather than share. As it turned out, Snowcat was bluffing, but know one knew that. Not even Demolisher.

"Got them from a Terrorcon. He makes them for anyone for the right price," Snowcat said, and continued quickly before Demolisher could ask what that price was. "But tell anyone I said that, and we're dead. He's worried about Autobots. You know what they think about unrefined stars."

Demolisher nodded in agreement. Unrefined stars were only used by Decepticons or Terrorcons. They were strictly black market goods. "How did you get them? I thought all Terrorcons worked down in Energon mines. And the Terrorcons that escaped can't get any pure Energon to work with." He shot another wary glance at the rest of the area, looking for anyone that would try to steal his and Snowcat's prize.

They were in an Iaconian junkyard, surrounded by towering remains of weapons, spacecrafts, and occasionally bodies. Whenever a body was found, it was dissected for spare parts, so there weren't many left. It was shaded from the sun by several burnt-out husks of towers, a memorial to of one of the few attempts at a Decepticon rebellion. Outside, it was hot enough to crack paint, but under the towers everything was in shadows. Holes in the building overhead let in light. Some were windows but the others were holes left by countless battles.

The "residents" of the junkyard were Transformers hiding from the government. Most of them were Decepticons that had gone into hiding after the sun had been created in the new solar system and Megatron had died. At that point, the Autobots had decided to get rid of all Decepticons once and for all. So far, they were doing a pretty good job.

The other residents were Terrorcons that had escaped the mines, Minicons that preferred no society to one where the only jobs allowed to them were minimum wage, and various neutrals. There were even a few Omnicons and Autobots that didn't like the way Cybertron was being run.

Millennia ago, Minicons had lived in wastelands like this all over Cybertron before they had escaped to Earth. They were teaching everyone else how to survive in places like this without being detected. Optimus Prime would have been touched to see how well everyone was working along, Demolisher thought wryly.

"This guy escaped and got reformatted. He calls himself Sleekstrike now. Looks exactly like a 'Bot and talks like one too. You'd never know he's a Terrorcon," Snowcat said proudly, as if he had played some part in the disguise. Any trick clever enough to stump the Autobots pleased him. "Y'know the random Energon tests everyone's getting? Where they stick a red star on you? He passes them 'cause he can absorb any kind of Energon."

One of the Autobots' methods to apprehend Decepticons was randomly visiting buildings, quarantining everyone inside, and attaching refined Energon stars to them. Decepticons were structured fundamentally differently from Autobots, and one of the differences was their intolerance to refined Energon. If someone reacted negatively to the star, then he or she had been created a Decepticon and was arrested. Of course, Decepticons that had willingly defected to the Autobots were still arrested and Autobots that secretly supported the Decepticon cause or called themselves Decepticons were still let free. No system was perfect.

"So, where does he get the raw Energon to make stars?" Demolisher asked.

"Regular stores! He can take in refined Energon, add a few cheap chemicals, and un-refine it," Snowcat said. "Think about this. If we," Snowcat gestured at the junkyard Transformers with one excited sweep of an arm, "can get someone into a store to buy Energon and chemicals, we can get the Terrorcons to make our own Energon. We wouldn't have to send guys on raids for obsolete fuel anymore."

"That'd be great," Demolisher agreed, "if any of us had a way to buy the Energon."

"Oh yeah, we'd need jobs, wouldn't we?" Snowcat muttered. "Well, we still got these. And a supplier for more."

"Yeah," Demolisher said. That pretty much terminated the conversation, and they both started searching for a place for them to hide and enjoy the stars.

A few minutes later, they were hunkered down in a small hole. It was slightly below what was generally accepted as "ground level" in the junkyard. They were roofed by several sheets of metal, and Demolisher pulled another one down to partially cover the entrance. Snowcat flipped open the glass lid of the preservation case, revealing eight green stars. Energon stars were too unstable to stay together for long without being attached to some sort of stabilizer, like the Energon star ports of most Transformers. Stars for commercial sale were preserved in cases. The cases were designed for refined stars, but they could be reused for unrefined.

"You first," Snowcat said, turning the case towards Demolisher and pushing a button above one of the stars, careful not to graze it with his fingers. Touching unrefined Energon was still painful, even for Decepticons, unless they were attached to an unrefined star themselves. After Demolisher had gotten his, Snowcat turned the box towards himself. "They make these buttons too close to the stars," he muttered, carefully pushing the second button.

"It's designed for Autobots with refined stars. They don't need to worry about touching it," Demolisher said. "If you were dealing with black market, unrefined Energon, you wouldn't waste time making a new preservation case."

Snowcat grunted. He wouldn't verbally admit he was wrong, but the rush from the Energon star put him in too good a mood to argue the point. He hadn't had pure Energon since Megatron had killed himself for the "greater good." Again. Snowcat was beginning to wonder if his former leader was really that much of a Decepticon. Those seemed like Autobot actions to him…

"This stuff is great!" Demolisher said suddenly, startling Snowcat out of his thoughts. "What'd you have to give that Terrorcon? Couldn't have been money."

"Just a little trade," Snowcat said evasively, turning to look at Demolisher face-to-face. That immediately made Demolisher suspicious. When Snowcat was evasive, he had something to hide. And when he had something to hide, he usually turned away from Demolisher, not towards him.

"What did you give him?" Demolisher asked, leaning to look behind Snowcat.

"Nothing!" Snowcat insisted angrily, turning to face Demolisher again.

"They why do you keep turning?" Demolisher challenged, trying once again to look at Snowcat's back.

"Because when you talk to someone, it's polite to look at them. I was trying to be polite," Snowcat said self-righteously.

"Since when have you ever tried to be polite?" Demolisher asked. "Stop turning around!"

"No!"

"Snowcat! What did you do?" Demolisher said angrily, grabbing Snowcat's shoulder to stop his twisting. Snowcat pulled out of Demolisher's grip, but not before Demolisher noticed that something was missing.

"Where's your cannon?" Demolisher asked.

"Dunno. Hid it somewhere," Snowcat said, pressing his back against the wall and refusing to look Demolisher in the optics.

"You gave Sleekstrike your cannons?" Demolisher said incredulously. "You're a killer. A Decepticon! And you're even a crazy killer compared to other Decepticons! And you gave him your CANNONS?"

"Among other things," Snowcat said quietly.

Demolisher stared at Snowcat. "What else?" he asked sternly.

"My wheels," Snowcat said. "And my skis. And the glass out of my windshield." Demolisher simply looked at Snowcat, optics bright with shock. "Hey, how did you think Sleekstrike got reformatted? He didn't walk into an Autobot reformatter's office and ask for it. He's been trading stars for parts for about three years now."

Demolisher looked over Snowcat. He was serious. His skis, tires, cannons, and windows. They were all gone. "Primus, you look like a beggar neutral," Demolisher said bluntly, ignoring Snowcat's glare of indignation. "I thought we were going to try keep all our parts. We're living in a fraggin' junkyard already, we don't need to look like it too!"

"And you'd rather starve to death?" Snowcat said angrily, unusually serious. He stabbed Demolisher's Energon star with a finger. "See that star? If you don't fight anyone, it'll last you two days. Mine too. Do you know how much slag we have to mop off the ground to survive two days? And the only stuff we can get is pathetic fuel like petroleum or liquid Energon that's got more water than anything useful in it. Unless you want to get some minimum wage job that'd keep us outside of buildings when Autobots do their purity checks or whatever. And then we could use that money to buy refined Energon, so that we'd get our wires fried out every time we tried to fuel ourselves. After two or three times we'd have to go to a medic to get repaired, and the second they start on use they'd know we're 'Cons, but who cares! When you're on death row you get free Energon, right? And you don't have to lose a single tire!" Snowcat glared at Demolisher, his optic band glowing a harsh, deep indigo. "So I'm not as good-looking now. Too bad. We've got Energon, don't we?"

Demolisher looked down at the preservation case, with its six remaining stars. Those and the two on their chests for the cost of two cannons, two tires, a set of skis, and glass windows. What would happen in eight days, when they were out of Energon again? What could they bargain with then? Demolisher's parts? But what would happen when they ran out of things they could give away?

But what choice did they have?

"Don't worry about it," Demolisher said tiredly, closing the preservation case. "We've got Energon. Besides, you weren't that good-looking to begin with."

Snowcat tried to retort, but instead was diverted by sudden laughter. "Th-that's a lie!" Snowcat managed to say, not quite sounding as forceful as he had wanted to around his giggles.

Demolisher shot Snowcat a challenging glance. "Now, would I lie to you?"

"Only if it's to annoy me," Snowcat said with false resentment.

Demolisher chuckled and stood up. "Let's find a place to hide this thing," he said. "And then we've got to find a way to get spare parts to trade."

"Friend of a friend knows a spare parts dealer," Snowcat said as they climbed out of the hole.

"What does he take?" Demolisher asked.

"Energon," Snowcat said, then realized the counterproductivity of his idea. "Eh, never mind."

But Demolisher was still thinking. "What if we can give him one or two stars and get enough parts to trade for eight stars?" he asked.

Snowcat tried to figure out what that would leave him and Demolisher with, and gave up. "I'll let you do the thinking," he said. "I'll just be the hired gun."

"As soon as we get you another gun," Demolisher said. He found a fairly distinctive looking piece of rubbish. After making sure no one was watching, he hid the stars underneath it. "So where's this friend of a friend?" he asked.


	2. Threshold

_Notes: This was a one-shot written for 31days on May 7 2006 to the prompt "Came out of their trance into time again." A sequel is pending, because it has been requested._

_Disclaimer: HasTak owns all proper nouns and pretty much all the flashback events. I own my interpretation of those events and, of course, the events of this fic._

Threshold 

Starscream shivered slightly, his optics flickering for a moment, as Megatron plunged into the Energon star and was destroyed.

Where was he? Megatron, that was Megatron that had died, wasn't it? And where was Alpha Q? He worked for Alpha Q, didn't he? No… Alpha Q was dead. He worked for Megatron now. No, he didn't just work for Megatron; he lived for Megatron. His entire function revolved around Megatron…

No, it didn't. Starscream froze mid-flight, staring in bewilderment at the star before him, much closer than was probably healthy.

What made him think he lived for Megatron? He was… he was… he was Starscream, wasn't he? Yes, that's what Alpha Q had said. But who was Alpha Q, then? He'd resurrected Starscream, after he'd died.

Died?

Starscream remembered being absorbed into Unicron. He remembered excruciating pain. He remembered a blinding flash shooting at him from the sky. He remembered shooting at the sky. Telling Galvatron to work alongside Optimus Prime. Being run through with the Star Saber. Fighting Galvatron.

He remembered fear, not knowing which side he was on. The humans, so easily fooled when he said he had joined the Autobots even when he couldn't fool himself. Being abandoned in the rain, even his Minicons working against him. Trying his best to please Megatron, only to be shot down again and again, knowing it was because he only wanted to please Megatron so that he could kill him. Landing on Earth. Finding the Minicon's signal on Cybertron. A paralyzed war where neither side gained anything without the assistance of the Minicons. Deciding Megatron was to blame, and the only solution was to betray him.

Betray Megatron? But… he lived for Megatron! Never!

Never what, betray him or live for him?

Starscream stared blankly into the sun, utterly confused. He noticed that it was growing larger, hotter, and closer, the result of Megatron's collision with it. Conflicting triumph and agony ripped through him. He really was too close to the sun, he now realized. He hadn't even gotten this close when Inferno had grabbed him and tried to pull him to the sun made by Unicron's head, with Alpha Q inside…

Alpha Q! He had been working for Alpha Q when he ran into Megatron. Megatron had made him into a Decepticon. Forced him! The trickster! The liar! He would never work for Megatron. He was Starscream, and with Primus as his witness, he swore he would never let anyone take away his identity again.

Lived for Megatron? Lived for Megatron, indeed! Hah! Starscream would never do that, at least not as long as he was aware of who he really was. He was free now, fully conscious and able to do anything he wanted.

What did he want?

Starscream's triumph was halted by the simple fact that he wanted nothing. His desire to lead the Decepticons, even to truly be a Decepticon, had died when he had run to the Autobots. He had stopped caring about the factions when he had had to choose between destroying an entire planet, Earth, and remaining a Decepticon, and found he couldn't choose. And he had given up on everything else in his life seconds before he'd shot at Unicron; forcing himself to let go was the only way he could make himself do what he thought he needed to do. His new life had given him no new goals, except to serve Megatron, and hadn't he just sworn that he would never do that again?

And what did that leave Starscream with? Zip, zilch, zero. He could return to Cybertron, but he really didn't feel like there was anything he particularly wanted to do. And if he did return, he would probably be arrested the moment the Autobots' radars detected him. He could fight back, but why bother, if jail didn't take away anything he wanted to do? He felt tired.

If he got much closer to the Energon star, it would kill him. It had stopped expanding, so he wouldn't be swallowed by it. But this was Autobot Energon; if he stayed here too long, the exposure would kill him anyway. At least the star would shrink some, as soon as Megatron had been… digested. It wouldn't kill Starscream if it were just a little farther away.

His last goal before Megatron had died had been to follow him into the star. Starscream didn't want to follow Megatron intentionally, but if he stayed here long enough and died, what difference did it make?

Perhaps he could gamble with himself. If the star stayed expanded like this long enough to kill Starscream, well, that was that.

But if it contracted enough to let Starscream live, then he'd have to go get a life. Alpha Q had made many unpopulated planets here, so it would be easy for Starscream to pick one and completely disappear, at least long enough for the Autobots to forget him. Perhaps Circuit Planet, he thought as the Energon started causing his wings to send of sparks. It would have plenty of fuel, and there were probably millions of hiding places between all those roads…

Or perhaps Alpha Q's own planet, the one with the palace? The Autobots probably wouldn't want to disturb it, and that would be one frell of a hideout. Fitting for Starscream, former second-in-command of the Decepticon army.

Starscream. Star-scream, his name. What did it mean? After all, he should know. "He who screams at the stars" or something. Defying fate and higher command to do one's own thing. And yet, here was Starscream, sitting passively and waiting for his own death. Maybe. Or maybe not.

Megatron had said that when he died, it would be by his own hands. Starscream would be slag if he didn't top that. He wouldn't sit here, cheerfully waiting to see whether or not he died. He would die by his own choice and no one else's. And he wasn't going to follow Megatron just yet.

He spun around to stare away from the star, alarmed at how much effort it took. He received two surprised; the first was that even though he was surrounded by Energon on all sides, when he looked away from the star he could still see the blackness of the sky and the planets, as if they were right before him. The second was that the star was not, as far as he could see, going to contract again. Megatron had permanently caused its mass to grow. If Starscream didn't move now, he absolutely would die.

He transformed, despite the protests of his joints and wires, and tried to fly away from the sun at full throttle. But he was more fatigued than he'd thought, and realized it was because he'd been subconsciously pushing himself away from the star's gravity, trying to keep at a constant distance. Now, with the Energon additionally draining on him, he didn't know if he had enough fuel to escape the star's gravity.

He frantically tried to increase the power, sensing that he wasn't really moving. What if he went sideways and tried to slingshot himself around the star? He turned sideways and started to gain momentum.

Starscream's mind started to grow fuzzy, saturated with the Energon. But not, unfortunately, in a happy over-energized way. He strained to calculate what speed he would need to be at to slingshot himself away; at the rate he was going, he might fall into stasis before he'd be able to escape. It would probably take only seconds now before he had taken too much.

Starscream struggled to positioned himself for escape. If he made it out, he wouldn't be conscious to know for several hours, while his self-repairs fixed his systems. He may have been absorbing Autobot Energon, but it was still Energon, and if he wasn't exposed to it like this his systems would be able to use it long enough for him to recover and land on a planet.

If he didn't make it out, he would slip into stasis before he'd know, and be dead in a few seconds when he would be pulled into the star and his momentum would fling him directly into the sun.

Starscream strained for one final burst of speed, wanting every advantage possible, hoping it wouldn't throw him off-course. Starscream hadn't fought this hard for anything since he'd fought against Galvatron with the Star Saber, and that fight had ended when he killed himself. He had no idea what his odds of survival were now, but the feeling of fighting again was as good as surviving would be. He was still gathering speed, his body shrieking with pain like needles hooking through every inch of dermaplating and trying to tear it off, and he was almost euphoric with the thrill of the battle.

His vision darkened and disappeared into static. His pain was easing, but whether that was because he was finally going into stasis or he was moving away from the star he couldn't tell. His body went numb, and his thoughts slowed and stopped.

Starscream went into stasis nanoseconds before he could see the end result of his efforts; whether he escaped the gravity and soared outward to space, or he slowed on the edge of freedom and fell down into the star. The rest, whether he liked it or not, was in the hands of fate.


End file.
